Terms and Conditions
by allthingsdecent
Summary: Takes place around the events of S1's Love Hurts. What if Cuddy found herself surprisingly jealous over Cameron and House's date?


**A few notes: Sorry this takes place in S1, kids. Woman cannot live on S7 and 8 angst alone. I'm pretty sure Nurse Jeffrey wasn't even a glimmer in David Shore's eyes in S1, but I needed him for his useful hospital gossipmeister factor. Extra long sex scene because Syd went on marathon reading and reviewing binge and asked nicely.**

**Also, CBR (Cameron Bashing Rating): Medium high**

"Earth to Cameron," Cuddy said, waving her hand in front of her face.

Cameron looked up, surprised.

"Sorry, I was day dreaming," she said.

"Yeah, I can see that," Cuddy said with a chuckle. "I was just saying, 'Welcome back.' But now I've got a new agenda: Finding out what—or, more accurately, _who_—has put that blissed out look on your face?"

Cameron smiled.

"If you must know, it's House."

"_Gregory_ House?"

"Yes," Cameron said, with pride. "We're actually going on a date tonight."

If Cuddy were drinking water at that moment, she might have done a spit take.

"Shut _up_," she said.

"It's true. It was the condition of my coming back."

Cuddy's eyes widened.

"He. . . he can't do that. That's sexual harassment."

"It wasn't his term. It was mine."

"Oh," Cuddy said, frowning. "That's, uh, still sexual harassment…but I guess, less so."

"It's okay, he jumped at the chance."

Cuddy folded her arms.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Cameron? House can be a handful." _Literally_, she thought, almost laughing despite herself.

"Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing," Cameron said, and she flipped her hair.

######

"Do you think Dr. Cuddy likes House?" Cameron said to Chase later, over lunch.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because when I told her I was going out with House tonight, I got the distinct sense she was jealous."

"Yeah," Chase said thoughtfully. "I do."

"You think?" she said, perking up.

"And I think he likes her right back."

She scowled.

"Why would you say that to me knowing I'm seeing House tonight?"

Chase looked down at the table.

"I guy can like two women at once. . ." he muttered. "Just like a woman can like two guys, right?" he added hopefully.

She ignored him.

"I really don't think Dr. Cuddy is his type," she said.

"Really? Because I think she's _exactly_ his type."

She shook her head like she found him amusing.

"You really don't understand House at all," she said.

#####

That night, as she was leaving the hospital, Cuddy bumped into Wilson.

"Big plans tonight?" she asked.

"Actually no. My usual Tuesday night drinking buddy is otherwise occupied."

She smiled.

"Ah yes. House's fabled date with Cameron."

"You heard about that, huh?"

"Straight from the prom queen's mouth."

He squinted at her, as an idea took root.

"Do _you_ have any plans tonight?"

"Yes," she said. "Very exciting plans that involve Chinese leftovers and a _Sex in the City_ marathon on TV."

Wilson laughed.

"Do you think maybe, uh, we could have dinner?"

"What? You and me?"

"Well, I have to go over to House's first for a pre-date pep talk. But after that. . .why not?"

It was strange. Cuddy and Wilson were quite friendly at work but the idea of taking their relationship to a more social level had never really occurred to her.

"Why not indeed?" she said, with a shrug.

"Sullivan's? 8 o clock."

"It's a date."

#####

When Cuddy was 13 years old she had a massive crush on her friend Alyssa's 16-year-old brother, Tony.

Tony had dark feathered hair that he was constantly combing with an oversized comb and blue eyes and he wore Wrangler jeans with a tantalizing fade mark from said comb on the back pocket.

She remembered one day, sitting on his bed—Alyssa was on the phone with her grandmother in the other room—watching him get ready for a date.

His room was filled with the wonderful mysteries of teenage boys: Star Wars posters and athletic trophies and barbells and bunched up gym socks and aftershave.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked in the mirror.

"How do I look?" he said.

"You should wear your REO Speedwagon shirt," she had said. "It makes you look cooler."

"Oh yeah?" he said. He smirked at her. Then, with impossible casualness, he had stripped off the shirt he was wearing and began rifling through his drawers for the tee-shirt.

Cuddy watched him, trying not to reveal how excited she was.

_I am alone in Tony's room and he is not wearing a shirt. _(He had muscle definition, unlike most of the knock-kneed boys she hung out with at the neighborhood pool.)

He found the REO Speedwagon shirt, put it on.

"Better?" he said, with a grin.

"Much," she said, trying on flirting for size.

Then he had folded his arms, contemplated her.

"How old are you again?"

"Thirteen."

"Too bad," he said, with a wink. "You're going to be really hot one day."

Cuddy found herself flashing back to that moment as she gave advice to House about his date.

"Wear the blue shirt," she had told him. "It brings out the color of your eyes."

But this was different, right? She had _liked _Tony. Her feelings for House were complicated and contradictory: Respect, exasperation, and okay, maybe a _little bit_ of attraction. But she didn't like him that way. At least not anymore. _Cameron can have him_, she told herself.

###

_It's a date_.

The phrase was echoing in Wilson's mind as he drove to Sullivan's.

What a remarkable turn of events.

First House going on this strange and unexpected date with Cameron and now his own date with. . .Lisa Cuddy?

Of course, he'd always found the Dean of Medicine to be super hot, but he'd never considered her a viable option for him. For one thing, she intimidated the hell out of him. For another, he assumed she was married to her work. A 35-year-old woman already running a hospital? That was a woman who had no time for petty things like a social life.

But the beauty was this. In the "who got the better date?" sweepstakes, he had clearly won, without even trying. House got the comely, but inexperienced understudy. He got the ravishing leading lady.

He had chosen not to tell House that he was seeing Cuddy, partly because House seemed nervous enough—he didn't want to throw another curve at him—and partly because he wasn't 100 percent sure it was even a date. Colleagues had friendly dinners, right? He didn't want to boast to House if he was going to be immediately friend zoned.

When he got to Sullivan's, she was already waiting for him, at the bar, dressed in a rather intoxicating combination of tight jeans, stiletto booties, and a loose sweater. Her hair was down, and hung in loose curls, like she had washed it, but not blown it dry. He wanted to tell her he liked it better that way, but thought it was inappropriate. He sat next to her. She smelled amazing.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi."

He noticed she was drinking a martini, not really a Sullivan's kind of drink—it was definitely more of a beer and whiskey kind of place. He wondered if he had chosen the wrong place.

"I like it here," she said, immediately putting him at ease. "It's got a good vibe."

He smiled.

"You want to get a table? Or just eat the bar?"

"Bar works," she said. "Easier to refill our drinks."

This was a whole new side of Lisa Cuddy.

They ordered more drinks, then food—he got a burger; she got a Caesar salad with chicken—and exchanged a bit of small talk about the hospital.

Then, somewhat cautiously, she said, "So how was House? All excited for the big date?"

"He was a bit like a nervous school boy, to be honest," Wilson said.

"Was he wearing the sky-blue shirt?" she asked.

"Yes," Wilson said, curiously. "As a matter of fact he was."

"Good," she said, nodding.

Wilson looked down at his beer and smiled.

"He'll kill me for telling you this, but he also bought Cameron a corsage."

"A _corsage_?" She looked disgusted. "What is this, the prom?" Then, under her breath she added: "I guess it makes sense, since we already established he's dating the prom queen."

He looked at her.

"Not a big fan of Cameron?"

Cuddy took a big swig of her martini.

"I never said that. I just think she's all wrong for House. He'll eat her alive."

"I don't totally disagree," Wilson said, eyeing her.

"So where's he taking her? A monster truck rally?"

"Spiletto," Wilson said.

"Spiletto? Wow. Not House's kind of place at all. I'm surprised. I mean, what's the deal? Why is he trying so hard to impress her?"

_Shit_. Wilson peered at her, suddenly realizing what was happening here.

"Are you. . .jealous?"

Cuddy recoiled a bit.

"What? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," she scoffed, in a voice that could only be described as protesting too much.

So friend zone it was.

"It's okay if you are," Wilson said, glumly. "We all have our secret shame."

"Shut up, Wilson."

He squinted at her.

"You knew him at Michigan didn't you?"

She idly stirred her martini.

"A little."

"How well?"

"Not well," she said.

"But you …hung out? Dated? Had sex?"

When he said "had sex" she actually choked a bit on the swig of martini she had just taken. He stared at her.

"Ohmygod, you had sex with him!"

"Lower your voice, Wilson. I'm not sure the people in the parking lot heard you."

"You had sex with House?" he whispered, conspiratorially.

The evening may have not been going as he had hoped, but at least it was getting interesting.

"Just one time," she said. Then added, "Well, one _night_, at least."

Then she put her head in her hands in a "why did I just say that?" sort of way.

"I'm shocked."

"I'm shocked House never told you. I figured he'd have boasted the minute you guys became friends."

"One thing I've learned about House, he's surprisingly chivalrous."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Huh," she said.

"So what happened? I mean, _after_ the magical night you spent together."

"I had House's child and we're secretly raising it together," she said. Then, noting the shocked look on his face, she laughed. "What do you think happened? He never called me. And then, a few weeks later, I heard he'd been expelled. So…"

"Have you guys ever . . . talked about it?"

"Talked about it? What's there to say? We were college kids. We hooked up. There's this thing called the sexual revolution that happened 30 years ago. You should look into it."

"And there are no lingering . . .feelings?"

"None whatsoever," Cuddy said, resolutely. "A good time was had by all and that was that."

He studied her.

"Okay, if you say so."

######

"So how was the big date with Dr. Cameron?" Nurse Jeffrey said to House, quickly following him down the hallway.

"I'm so glad you asked!" House said, brightly.

"Really?"

"Yes, I was dying to tell someone to fuck off today."

"Touchy, touchy, touchy," Nurse Jeffrey said. "Or maybe you're just upset that your boyfriend had the hotter date."

"You finally convinced Wilson to have drinks with you? Excellent! How deep into the night before he figured out you were at a gay bar?"

"Not me. Dr. Cuddy."

House stopped walking and looked at him.

"What?"

"Yeah, a few of the nurses spotted Dr. Wilson and Dr. Cuddy at Sullivan's last night. They were having dinner at the bar, looking very cozy together."

House scowled.

"_Really?_"

"Yeah. Looks like you're not the only one who got lucky last night," Nurse Jeffrey said, and strutted away.

#####

House marched right to Wilson's office.

Wilson looked up, grinned at him.

"So how was the big date?" he said.

"You had dinner with Cuddy last night?" House said, accusingly.

"Wow, word travels fast. Yes, I did. How was the big date with Cameron?"

"Like, just the two of you?"

"Yes. How was your date with Cameron?"

"How did that even happen?"

"I asked Cuddy. She agreed. _How was the date with Cameron_?"

"It was fine," House said, distractedly. "So was it a …date?"

"I'm going to have to say no. Strictly friends, alas. I did, however, learn something very interesting about you." He gave a sneaky smile.

"Don't be coy, Wilson. Tell me."'

"I found out about your, shall we say, _extracurricular activities_ with Cuddy back at Michigan."

House narrowed his eyes.

"Are we talking about the extracurricular activities I think we're talking about?"

"If you're referring to the ones that involved you and Cuddy making sweet, sweet love? Then yes."

House slumped into a chair, shocked.

"How did you even find out about that?" he said.

"Cuddy told me."

"What else did she say?"

"That's it. Although she suggested it was a mutually satisfying experience."

"It was," House said. Then he frowned, drummed his fingers on his cane. "So are you seeing her again?"

#####

His next stop was Cuddy's office.

"You told Wilson we had sex?" he said, after he'd discreetly closed the door.

She cringed a bit.

"I'm sorry. It just slipped out."

"You must be confusing me without somebody else," he cracked.

"Shut up, House."

"Seriously though Cuddy. I've displayed superhuman restraint in not telling our secret for 20 years and you run your mouth after a couple of martinis?"

"I'm sorry," Cuddy said. "Truly. I hope I didn't embarrass you."

"I'm not embarrassed. I'm a dude. I'd put out a hospital-wide memo if I thought you wouldn't mind."

"I'd _mind_," Cuddy said. "So don't get any bright ideas."

"Figured so much," he shrugged. "So how did our . . .night of passion even come up?"

"Umm, I guess we were talking about your date with Cameron and I just… told him. How was _your _date, by the way? I heard about the corsage. Very romantic. . . .Oh wait, did I say romantic? I meant cheesy."

"Wilson's a dead man. And we're not talking about my date with Cameron. We're talking about your extremely loose-lipped date, with Wilson."

"It wasn't a date!" Cuddy said. Then she narrowed her eyes. "Why? Did he say it was?"

"Do you want him to have said it was a date?"

"No. I'm not interested in Wilson."

"Then who are you interested in?" he said.

For a moment, their eyes met—and the silent tension coursing between them could light a small village. Then she looked away.

"George Clooney wouldn't be bad," she cracked.

"Right," he said. "So back to you blabbing about the greatest sex you ever had to Wilson. . ."

"Nice try, House."

"Tell me _exactly _how it came up."

Right now Cuddy wished two things: She wished that she had expressly told Wilson not to tell House. (Unlike House, Wilson was actually a pretty big gossip.) And she wished she'd come up with an alternate explanation for how it had come up. ("Wilson picked up on my jealousy toward Cameron" not being an ideal response.)

"It wasn't like I meant to tell him," she improvised. "Wilson asked me if you dated a lot in college and then I guess the look on my face betrayed me."

"I'm trying to imagine what the 'I had sex with House' look would look like. Dirty smile? A ravenous lick of the lips? Ecstatic 'O' face?"

"More like a look of painful constipation," Cuddy said.

"_Suure_," House said, popping up. "Well, I'm back to work. This has been very illuminating."

"Wait a second. I showed you mine, you show me yours. How was your date with Cameron?"

"Suffice it to say, I still know you _a lot_ better," he said, wagging his eyebrows.

And despite herself, Cuddy smiled.

#####

That night, House had a dream.

"You cost the hospital $100 million and now you owe me something," Cuddy had said. For some reason she was wearing a tee-shirt with no bra. Her nipples were hard.

"What do I owe you?" he had said.

"You need to make me come," she said, taking off the top and spreading her legs.

House woke up, suddenly, then looked down at the tented sheet.

"You have a big problem, House," he said, out loud.

####

The next day, he saw Cuddy at work—she was at the clinic desk, bending over over some patient files—and he found himself remembering their night together—how perfectly her body had responded to his touch, the little moans that she made during sex, the absolute stunning perfection of her naked form. It wasn't that he had ever forgotten how great the sex between them had been. More like he had locked the memories of it into a small compartment of his brain. It was safe to say, the compartment had opened.

That night, he drove to her place, knocked on her door.

She answered. She was, in fact, wearing a tight tee-shirt, not completely unlike the one in his dream (although, sadly, she was wearing a bra.) Also, her hair was down on her shoulders, curling a bit at the bottom.

"What are you doing here?" she said, surprised to see him.

"You should wear your hair like that always," he said approvingly, stepping inside. "It looks good."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said. "What are you at my house, House?"

"Oh yeah. I, um, came to tell you that I quit."

"You what?"

"I quit."

"Why on earth would you quit? I just cost the hospital 100 million dollars to keep you employed!"

"It's the whole you-telling-Wilson-we-had-sex thing. It's going to get around the entire hospital soon and everyone's going to think you only hired me because you want my body."

"No one's going to think that! And besides, I thought you _wanted_ people to know."

"I changed my mind. I'm very sensitive about people seeing me as a piece of man meat."

She narrowed her eyes.

"What's this _really_ about, House?"

"I guess I could be convinced to stay," he said. "Under one condition…"

She rolled her eyes.

"Here it comes. . ."

"Go out with me."

That wasn't what she was expecting.

"What?"

"Go out with me. Or, better still, stay in with me. I make a mean coq au vin—or at least I'm sure I will, once I figure out what that is."

"You'll quit unless I go out with you?"

He shrugged.

"Worked for Cameron."

"And you're serious about this?"

"Serious as a myocardial infarction, as the kids say."

"They don't say that."

"Oh. . . So will you?"

She looked at him. He had that smug look on his face that simultaneously annoyed her and completely turned her on.

"I guess you leave me with no choice," she said.

"Tomorrow night. My apartment. 7 o clock. Wear your hair like that."

#####

Cameron was getting frustrated. It had been three days since her date with House and he had barely said a word to her about it. The date, admittedly, hadn't gone that well. House had been too nervous, too far out of his comfort zone. But she figured for their next date, they'd go someplace more casual, maybe on the back of his motorcycle again.

She had been hoping for—or at least prepared for—sex that night, wearing a pretty damn sexy (if she did say so herself) teddy under her clothing. But they hadn't even kissed.

House's theory that she only liked him because he was damaged goods annoyed her to no end. For starters, was it really so horrible to like damaged men? And besides, the lust she felt for House had little to do with his emotional turmoil and more to do with his big blue eyes and incredibly sexy body. Had he not looked in a mirror lately?

Damn, why hadn't they kissed?

She decided that maybe the reason was because she hadn't initiated it. After all, she had been the catalyst of the date, asking him out, assuming the role of the man, in a way. Maybe he figured if she wanted to kiss him she would have.

She looked at her watch. 9:30 pm. She could drive to his apartment, knock on the door, and just go for it. Maybe that was what he'd been expecting and hoping for all along.

#####

The minute she got to his door, she sensed something was amiss.

She could hear jazz music playing on the stereo and she heard laughter—a woman's laughter. It almost sounded like he was having a party.

Maybe she should leave?

Or maybe this was the perfect opportunity. A party meant there was drinking, the loosening of inhibition, permissiveness. Plus, she'd get to meet House's friends. She didn't even know he _had _any friends, other than Wilson.

So she knocked.

House opened the door, a dish towel over his shoulder. He looked stunned, and slightly horrified, to see her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he said.

Cameron peered inside. There was no party. Well, there was. But it was a party of two.

Cuddy was in the kitchen, helping with dishes, and drinking wine. The house smelled of chicken and garlic and thyme. Melted candles had been recently blown out on the dining room table. Cuddy was still laughing over something, although when she saw Cameron, she stopped.

"Cameron!" she said.

"Dr. Cuddy!" Cameron replied.

House folded his arms.

"Cameron, why are you here?" he repeated.

She felt a blush rise up her neck.

"I. . .I. . .forget it!" she said, running away.

"Shit," House said. "Shit, shit, shit." He turned to Cuddy. "I'll be right back."

"Cameron!" he yelled, hobbling after her, as she made her way down the hall. "Stop!"

She stopped, dutifully, turned to him, her eyes wet with tears.

"You're seeing Cuddy?" she said, pathetically.

"It's just a friendly dinner between colleagues," House lied.

"That's not what it looked like," Cameron muttered. "It looked like a date."

"Well, whatever it looked like, it's none of your business."

She felt ridiculous, but was in too deep to stop now.

"But what about. . .us?" she said.

His eyes fixed on hers.

"Cameron, there is no us. You know that."

She looked down.

"I know our date didn't go that well. It was a little tense, a little awkward. But that was just our first stab at it. It's to be expected that there would be …jitters. It'll go better next time!"

"There won't be a next time."

"Why? Because of her?"

"My feelings for Dr. Cuddy have nothing to do with you."

Cameron felt vaguely ill. _My feelings for Dr. Cuddy_.

"She's wrong for you," she said, feeling desperate.

"And let me guess," he said. "You're right?"

"Yes!" she said.

"Were you even listening to me at dinner? This thing between us? This fantasy where you heal me and make me a better man? It isn't real. It's a figment of your imagination."

"You treat me like some sort of child."

"I treat you the way your behavior demands that I treat you."

She jutted out her chin.

"Fuck you," she said.

"Now that's more like it," he said.

She allowed herself the tiniest laugh.

"You're an asshole, you know that?"

"So I've been told."

She looked at him.

"I guess I should've called first, huh?" she admitted.

"Always wise," he said.

"I'll see you on Monday? And we'll both pretend this never happened?"

"A few more drinks and I won't have to even pretend," he said, charitably.

She blinked at him sadly and left.

House exhaled and limped back to his apartment. Cuddy had finished drying the dishes and was putting on her coat.

"What are you doing?" he asked, alarmed.

"It's late. I should go," she said.

"Nooooo! Why? Because of her?"

"Her appearance was something of a mood killer."

"And now she's gone."

"She seemed very upset."

"A little girl's tantrum, from someone used to getting her way. She'll get over it."

"It just feels…wrong to be here."

"Look, Cuddy. Cameron's feelings for me are an illusion. She doesn't love me. She just thinks she loves me. It's the definition of a schoolgirl crush. Now what we have is much more…"—he smiled, stepping toward her—"_grownup_."

She laughed.

"You mean because you want to have sex with me," she said.

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," he replied.

"So that was the plan? Make me dinner? Ply me with wine? Have your way with me?"

"Not so much the plan as the. . .hope," he said. Then he looked at her. "Take your jacket off. Stay a while."

She hesitated, then removed her jacket, put it on the back of the chair.

"Now that's more like—" But he stopped, his mouth hanging open, because she wasn't done disrobing. She bit her lip in a sexy sort of way, and slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Then she slid out of her skinny jeans.

His breathing grew heavy as he watched her. She took off her bra and her full, ripe breasts were even better than in his dream, better than he had remembered. He was already hard.

Then, taking her sweet time, she slid out of her panties. She was standing before him, completely naked.

"Fuck me," he uttered, in awe.

"I think that's my line," she teased. "Come here."

He walked up to her eagerly, put his hands on her waist, then, pulling her toward him, began kissing her on the mouth, as his hands caressed her hips, her ass. His mouth moved to her breasts, and as he sucked and licked them, she made those same little gaspy moaning sounds he had remembered, the ones he been fantasizing about.

Not able to take it anymore, he picked her up, carried her to the bedroom. "Make me come," she had said in his fantasy—and somehow that was even more important than his own desire. He buried his face between her legs, getting more turned on as her moans grew louder, her back arched, her muscles clenched around his tongue.

"I want you inside me," she breathed.

So he obeyed, slowly and deeply at first, kissing her, murmuring her name, until neither could take it any longer and he began pumping more quickly and they both came, almost simultaneously.

Afterward, they lay side by side, out of breath.

"It's good to be a grownup," Cuddy giggled. And he laughed and kissed her on the lips.

######

On Monday morning, Cameron decided to go to Cuddy's office to clear the air, apologize for her intrusion, but she wasn't in.

"Where's Dr. Cuddy?" she asked.

"She's running late. Said she'd be in around 11," her assistant said.

Cameron frowned. "That's unusual, isn't it?"

"Very."

Cameron made her way to the differential room, where Foreman and Chase were sitting at the table, shooting spitballs at each other.

"Where's House?" she said.

"Even later than usual," Foreman said.

She looked at the clock. 10:15.

At almost exactly 11, House ambled in, looking happy and tired.

"Morning Angels!" he said. "Oh wait…that's not my line."

He nodded at Cameron in a "we're good" kind of way, then adopted the voice of the WWE announcer, "Let's get ready to _differrrrrentiate_!"

At lunch, Cameron watched House and Cuddy clowning around on the food line (he kept putting desserts on her tray and she kept taking them off) and felt a sense of inescapable dread.

"Earth to Cameron," Wilson said, waving his hand in front of her face.

She looked up.

"Where were you just then?" he asked.

"Looking at them," Cameron admitted, gesturing to House and Cuddy.

"Huh, they do look extra flirty today," he said. He also noticed that Cuddy's hair was down on her shoulders, curling at the bottom.

"That's because they spent the whole weekend having sex," Cameron said, bitterly.

"Wait. What. Whoa," Wilson said.

"It's true."

"And you know this because they…told you?"

"They don't need to tell me. A woman just knows."

"Huh," Wilson said, feeling the slightest twinge of jealousy himself. Then he turned to Cameron—with her silky hair, apple cheeks, and smooth skin, she truly looked like every beautiful cheerleader who had rejected him in in high school. He cocked his head.

"Do you have plans tonight?" he said.

THE END


End file.
